Breathe
by AtinBralor
Summary: A day at the lake and some healing for Wolffe and Jaro. EDIT: I have decided to add any other M rated Wolffe/Jaro ficlets here, as and when they crop up.
1. Chapter 1

_**AN: Strictly not for the younger readers. I've tried to keep it from being too graphic, but the concept is still very much adult only. This contains themes of domination and control so if you're not comfortable with that then this is your get out moment. You have been warned. - Atin**_

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Breathe

It was peak summer on Mandalore and the sun beat down on the scorched earth. The spring crops had all been harvested and there was a brief lull in the activity of the small holding. Enough time for them all to step back and relax however they fancied. They'd had a few informal games of meshgeroya but they were all guilty of getting over enthusiastic and it always ended with half of them being sore losers, so today they had gone their separate ways to enjoy the sun.

Wolffe and Jaro had gathered up a snack and taken the speeder to a secluded lake around ten klicks from the farm. It was too far to enjoy frequently but it was a wonderful place to relax and enjoy lazy days like this. There were plenty lakes in this area of Mandalore but most had gravelly shores, but this had sandy banks of a curiously dark grey which appeared to be composed of a different rock to the general strata. The geology was notoriously hard in North Mandalore; granites and other igneous rocks, but regardless of what had created this anomaly, it was striking on days like this. The sand caught the light and glittered in ways that regular sand didn't.

Jaro floated on his back in the shallow waters near the shore, eyes closed against the bright sunlight. The water was warmed by the sun but was still a pleasant contrast to the air temperature. On days like this he found it hard to believe he was alive. They had been created to live and die in military service…how had they ever been fortunate enough to gain freedom? He tried not to let his mind dwell on that topic too often because it reminded him of the brothers he had lost along the way. Good men. Men who should have got the chance to enjoy a life like this. And then there were the men in still in service. Few of them would still be fit enough for active service since they would still be aging rapidly. The clone bodies didn't hold up to old age very well. Even those who had been given the aging cure had felt some of the damage. Those with bad bone injuries had started to feel the occasional ache of arthritis. Jaro's own body ached in the cold after the terrible injuries received in service and he knew Wolffe hurt a lot more than he might want to admit. They coped with it by keeping moving. They may be civvies but they didn't act like it. They maintained the same disciple approach to fitness and kept themselves loose and supple. When all else failed, warm cloths and painkillers would take the edge off aches.

But in the height of summer the weather was working in their favour; no damp, no cold…everyone was feeling their sap rising. It was the time of year. The extended families seemed to welcome most new babies in early spring which stood testament to this universal feeling. It was a done deal. Winter meant being all crammed in together but come summer the world was your oyster as far as finding places to get down and dirty. And the black beach was one of their favourites…

Wolffe stood on the shore watching Jaro enjoying the water. He didn't go in himself; he had never much liked swimming ever since witnessing Sol's near drowning while in active service. He _could _swim and if ever needed to do so, he would, but by choice he'd rather watch from the side lines.

But now he was getting fed up with standing by.

"Jaro."

The retired sniper shifted off his back to stare at him. "Yeah?"

"Come here."

It wasn't a direct command, so he decided to push his luck. "…make me."

There was a moments silence then Wolffe growled under his breath, rolled up his pant legs and started wading through the shallows.

"Wolffe, watch out it gets…" Jaro didn't manage to complete his warning before his partner stepped off the hidden ledge underwater where it got suddenly deeper. There was no gradual variation. It wasn't too deep to touch the bottom but it was an abrupt change and Wolffe disappeared below the crystal clear surface with a yowl and a splash, surfacing seconds later soaking wet and fuming.

Jaro leapt to his aid, instantly concerned that he may panic but it really wasn't deep and he was pleased to see him keep his cool…mostly.

Wolffe allowed himself to be assisted but caught Jaro's shoulder once they were on dry land, forcing him down to his knees on the grass.

Jaro knew what he was meant to do. He could feel his partner's anger and he would pacify him enough to make this enjoyable for both of them. Wolffe was so abrupt and short tempered – particularly since the events of Order 66 – he had become much less willing to do anything but simple, hormone purging sex. It was all part of healing…he was getting better with time but it was still difficult to get him to play. Especially when it concerned his control ability because Wolffe seemed to feel he had lost that control under the Empire and was loathe to make a 'fool of himself' by trying to act like the part he'd lost. He lacked confidence, although he didn't seem to want to admit it. Jaro spent a lot of time trying to coax him in to a little roleplay and he often ended up left when he pushed too far and Wolffe would get up and leave him alone mid event.

It had been nearly two years since Order 66 and he hadn't succeeded in rekindle those lost games they enjoyed while Republic troopers. It wasn't just sexual release…he missed the emotional connection as well. It always felt like a deeper bond that they were missing out on now.

Wolffe's hands tightened on his shoulders, reminding him of what was expected. He took a hold of the older man's shirt and slowly eased the buttons apart, pausing to kiss his neck…his collarbone…down his chest…his ridged stomach…

Wolffe loved the gently kisses and caresses across his skin; he craved the contact and Jaro knew it. He licked and nibbled his way down until he got to the waistband of his pants. They were soon dropping to the ground and Jaro took careful attention remove every last item of his partner's clothing without stopping the kisses. He had got good at it. He was an expert at pleasing the seemingly abrupt man.

Wolffe lead his head fall back as the warm, wet mouth engulfed him and chased away the lingering anger. He found himself wishing he'd thought ahead and started this somewhere he could lean or sit, but he had no intention of pausing the action. Jaro was very efficient and nimble with his tongue and he never lasted long like this. Wolffe's primary flaw – which he knew about anyway – was his inability to slow down and savour things and he was already racing headlong towards the finish line. He could tell him to stop – to slow down – to ease the pressure – but instead he fisted his hands in the sniper's hair and held his head in place.

Jaro accepted the slightly rough handling as Wolffe rode the wave of his orgasm. He liked being reminded of the raw power. It brought a flood of pleasure to his own body, pooling in warmth in his lower stomach.

He was taken completely unawares when Wolffe stepped away, still breathing heavily but with a glint in his eye. Normally he'd return the favour…not move away, but there was something in that look which made Jaro's stomach twist in memory. His body certainly caught on quicker than his mind. He was only wearing thin black shorts and they clung to his body like a second skin; there would be no hiding his flare of arousal and he knew that the Commander – because that was who it was now – was giving him a good look.

"Take them off."

It was said in a level tone which brokered no argument and Jaro promptly peeled them off and dropped them beside Wolffe's own pile of clothing.

He waited eagerly, trying not so show the buzz of excitement that was fizzing in his stomach for fear that his partner would lose his confidence and stop the game. He allowed himself to be pushed roughly to the ground, feeling the rough grass and grit against his skin. This was usually where the binders came out; his favourite part of Wolffe's kit, but unless he was hiding them somewhere pretty inventive… "Binders?" He swallowed as Wolffe glowered down at him with those mismatched eyes. "Rope…"

Wolffe knelt down on one knee and took Jaro's arms and placed them by his sides, palm down against the grass. He stayed there, watching each heavy breath lift the sniper's chest, and the beads of sweat that were glinting on his skin. He was beautiful – delectable – all muscular tanned flesh and that sweet, innocent smile. _How had he been lucky enough to land himself this man?_ He'd had his back all through their active career together, especially when Order 66 had knocked Wolffe sideways and left him in a pit of depression. So Wolffe was going to do his best to give him exactly what he wanted, although it was taking all his regained confidence to keep up the façade.

He leant down, placing his lips against the sniper's ear to whisper to him. "I don't need binders, or rope, because you're not going to move those arms unless I give you permission. Is that understood, trooper?"

Jaro let out a guttural moan, his heart rate already beginning to pick up just at those words.

"Is that understood?"

The tone had taken a stricter edge which went straight to Jaro's groin. "Sir, yes, sir."

He tried his best to lie still while Wolffe went to town on his body, lavishing attention on every but his penis. Every time he felt the overpowering need to touch himself – to relieve the pressure – he was reminded of his position.

"Don't you dare even think of moving a muscle unless I tell you to, trooper."

Wolffe couldn't refer to Jaro by his name while they played this game. It made him feel as if he were abusing his power somehow despite Jaro's evident pleasure. He had to stay distant but that just seemed to arouse the sniper even more. He didn't understand how the younger man got so much pleasure from being bossed around but it did him wonders.

Jaro was a barely contained pool of pleasure, arching in to every tiny little touch. Wolffe would hold back, stroking gently over his skin; peppering it with kisses. He knew how much the touch was wanted but that just made him hold it back even more. The longer he drew this out, the better it was for Jaro in the end. There was a small ridge of scar across his left pectoral muscle that just screamed out to be kissed, and kiss it Wolffe would.

Jaro squirmed and let out a soft whine that became a cry as Wolffe shifted to lick then bite at his nipple. Everything down that side of his body had always been super sensitive ever since the extensive damage from a collapsing structure. He had expected to lose some degree of sensation, but instead he had found upon recovery that everything felt much more extreme. This had led to him being very grumpy about unwanted touch but when it came to pleasure, Wolffe would use it to his complete advantage.

He felt that he was so close and the more that the lips and teeth worried at his body, the greater the head of pressure became. He tried to rock his hips up to get some friction against Wolffe's thigh but a firm hand on his hip put him back down.

"What did I tell you, trooper? Didn't I tell you to wait until instructed to move?"

Jaro licked his lips, feeling the nails digging in to his flesh; waiting for his confirmation. "Sir…"

"Did I tell you to move?"

"No, sir."

Wolffe released his grip and allowed his fingers to finally ghost over the sensitive, swollen flesh. He tightened his grip almost viciously when Jaro twitched and let out a barely controlled groan. "Don't you dare…not until I give you permission."

Jaro could do nothing but close his eyes and focus every bit of self-control as he was brought right to the brink a further five times with no permitted release; digging his nails in to the soil in desperation not to allow himself to move. He knew that he had to behave himself to get what he wanted. Wolffe was never a soft touch – he would revoke permission for the slightest misdemeanour.

It was a pure subconscious reaction when Wolffe leant forward and whispered in his ear. "Permission granted, trooper." His mind didn't get a chance to process the words but his subconscious recognised the trigger phrase instantly and he saw stars with the force of his release.

Wolffe held on to his role for a few moments until Jaro's gasps became sobs, and then he dropped the cold commander act and gathered him up in to his arms and held him close. This was why Wolffe never understand the game. The power of the release and the psychological game they played turned Jaro on immensely but it always left him in fits of tears. He claimed they were good tears but Wolffe didn't understand how sobbing like this could be 'good'.

It had been so long since they'd last done this…years…and he felt the nerves in his chest just like the first few times. He had been scared that he'd done something wrong. He was scared that he'd hurt the sniper but he'd got used to it. He began to understand that the sheer power of the emotions involved were what drove the tears. It was a huge trust thing; to put yourself willingly under the complete control of another. It took a close bond to get it right…to be able to push it to extremes and still come back to the level norm afterwards.

He wrapped himself around the younger man, pulling him in to his lap and kissing his hair. Jaro was trembling in uncontrollable shakes and clinging to him as if his life depended on it. _Had he gone too far? _It had been so long since he'd been a Commander, never mind since he'd played at being Jaro's Commander.

_Maybe he'd pushed him too hard. _

Jaro walked a knife edge between allowing himself to be dominated and wanting to panic and retreat. He needed the sense of control, but a few memorable times he had truly panicked. _The game didn't work when alcohol was involved_. They'd learned that the hard way. Jaro was too flighty for that.

He had to be in control of himself in order to relinquish control to Wolffe.

Everything had seemed right this time, but maybe…maybe he'd read it wrong. He hadn't intended any of this. It was a pure spur of the moment reaction that had made him push Jaro to the ground and seeing the flare of arousal it caused had rekindled some of those lost moments. The had a word which meant 'stop' for those moments when 'stop' alone often didn't really mean halt, but Jaro had never uttered that safety word.

Wolffe gently tilted his partner's face up, gripping his chin so that he could kiss him softly, wiping away the tears. He could hear his teeth chattering with the force of the shakes. "Are you okay, cyar'ika? Just breathe…" He stroked his hair, pushing the mussed up strands back in to the neat combed back position. "What can I do to help?"

Jaro struggled to still the tremors, still clinging tightly to Wolffe. "You're coming back…" He knew what he meant but he could articulate it because the admission of relief for his partner's mental wellbeing had him in another fit of tears. He'd longed to see some of the Republic Commander Wolffe returning and part of him had grown to accept that maybe that man was gone.

But Imperial Commander Wolffe would never play this game. It had to be a turning point. A turning point he had feared would never appear.

It took Wolffe a few minutes to understand what Jaro meant, but it eventually sunk in and he held him tighter. "I am, cyar'ika." He ducked his head down to nuzzle the sniper's hair, inhaling the smell which he associated with his partner. It was slightly interrupted by the scent of sweat and the sweet grasses, but he could still smell 'Jaro' below it all and the moment took him back several years to their many moments of pleasure before the darkness invaded his soul. "I'm coming back, cyar'ika. I'm so sorry for leaving you alone."

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_**AN: I'm going blind with regards to the types of emotions that might play out in a bit of roleplaying like this – I've always had Jaro down as someone who likes a little domination but never really explored how this might actually play out for him psychologically. Especially considering the clone 'slave' thing – his own complete lack of control in his entire life…to willingly give away what little control he does have to Wolffe would be a big thing. I think…who knows. This was going to be pure gratuitous smut but I ended up trying to think of the psychology of it all – especially given Wolffe's poor mental health post Order 66 – so hopefully it reads as a feasible exploration. I hummed and hawed over whether to post it here or not, but I did give the emotions in the plot some considerable thought so it seemed worth putting out there, for better or worse. Not quite sure whether to hang my head in shame over this one or not :S Can always take it down again if needs be. ~ Atin**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**AN: I have decided to put any Wolffe/Jaro ficlets under this story so that they aren't all spread out on their own. **_

_**This was a starter prompt on tumblr but it's long enough to stick up here and somebody may like it! **_

_**The prompt: "I could always just kill them...", for Jaro.**_

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_**Set post Order 66 - Imperial Base, Keldabe, Mandalore.**_

"_I __could__ always just kill them…"_

Wolffe clamped his hand over Jaro's mouth and tugged him back deeper in to the shadows, almost tripping over their discarded armour. He had an arm around his partner's chest to keep him from moving towards the trio of off-duty mongrel Stormtroopers. "Kuur, cyar'ika, they will pass."

The sniper stumbled a little, gripping Wolffe's forearm to help keep his balance and they sank back in to the dark of the storeroom. The Commander's mouth was right next to his ear and the breath made him shiver. His bare skin was rubbing hard against the other man and the friction was enough to drive him mad. He tilted his head back against Wolffe's shoulder, mouthing quietly against his neck. "Go on, just let me shoot them…worthless mongrels. You know how long it's been since we had any privacy at all and they gate-crash it…"

They stood silently in the dark, watching through the Stormtroopers milling around, chatting and laughing amongst themselves. They seemed intent to hang around the quiet of the store room, with no evident intention to move on.

"They'd better not be here for the same thing as we are." Wolffe breathed, rubbing his thumb along Jaro's collarbone and making him bite back a groan. "We could be hiding a long time."

"…maybe a floor show?" Jaro gave a breathy laugh as he was gripped tighter; a warning. "Oh c'mon, F'ika, let me get rid of them. I could do it with my bare hands…"

"You can't kill your colleagues, Jar', even if they are mongrels. And there's nothing subtle about a stark naked clone advancing for the kill. You'd look ridiculous!" Wolffe could be patient, but of all the times for fate to test his patience…it was only the knowledge that Jaro really would go after those troopers if he thought they were bothering Wolffe that helped him keep control.

Jaro had taken it upon himself to protect the Commander from every physical or psychological threat ever since Order 66 hit. If he were to decide that these troopers were having a negative effect on his partner, he would at least make some threatening advances. He had done it before – although he had been wearing his clothes that time – and he had a great deal of success since his extensive scarring put the fear in the mongrel troopers. They'd all seen Jaro in the showers; it was a reminder to them just how much a clone soldier could go through and still come back fighting. His scarring was extensive, right down the right hand side of his body, and of course there was the distinctive lightsaber burn. Mongrels assumed that he had got up close to some dangerous force user, and he was happy to let them believe that. Truly, the wound had been given by accident when Wolffe used Plo Koon's saber to free him from the wreckage of a fallen building, but if it scared the mongrels to let them believe the wrong thing he was happy with that outcome.

Rather than letting Jaro get more combative, he started to make subtle movements to stroke and touch all the areas that would make him butter in his hands. He had to clamp his hand over his mouth again to keep his moans from getting them noticed. He leaned in close to whisper against his neck. "If you too much noise, they'll hear it and come to investigate, then what will they find?"

Jaro could only mumble against the hand covering his mouth, tipping his head back again to rest on Wolffe's shoulder. "The Commander with his hand on my…" He gasped as Wolffe's free hand dropped as if following his own thoughts. He bit down on the Commander's palm, rolling his head with his eyes squeezed shut.

Wolffe grinned, loving the power he could have with a few simple touches in the right places. He knew Jaro so well he could sent him from tepid to flaming with a few choice strokes.

A further set of footsteps echoed in to the store room, pausing just inside the doorway.

"What are you three doing lurking in the store?" The voice was a clones. "You should only be down here if you have a reason to be. I don't want to catch you down here again unless it's a direct order. Do I make myself clear?"

The three young mongrel Stormtroopers leapt to their feet, stuffing cards away in their pockets. "Yes, sir." The moved quickly to do as they were told. "Sorry, sir."

It was often hard to get the mongrels to listen to the clones, especially when they were off duty. They seemed to think that all clones were below them because they didn't have any citizenship or rights. It only became clear when the clone moved forward in to the room, deliberately keeping his eyes fixed on the first packing box stacked in front of him.

It was Kohl; veteran clone trooper and the bases senior medic.

Nobody, mongrel or clone, wanted to be on the wrong side of Kohl. There might come a time where your leg was hanging off and you needed his skills!

"You can thank me later, sir…"

Wolffe grinned, releasing Jaro now that the threat of detection had passed. "I owe you, Kohl. Incidentally, how did you know we were here?"

Kohl let a lazy smile spread across his features. "You left the barracks, then Jaro followed straight after. And he abandoned a sabaac game when he was winning. It was easy to put two and two together." He turned around, heading for the door. "I'll hang around outside and make sure nobody else interrupts."

He paused, giving a cursory glance towards where the pair stood hidden in the shadows. He had a trooper's senses and even if he couldn't see them, he knew where they were. The mongrels were too thick to notice the subtle clues.

"I'll up my helmet baffles, but please, vode…try not to be too loud!"


End file.
